Distance
by Rebeccaseal
Summary: A dream where Haku is so close, but not close enough to touch. Oneshot.


**A/N: I just want to thank everyone for their patience. I know updating's been slow for my multi-chap, but I promise to have the next chapter out soon! In the meantime, just another dream from Chihiro's childhood. Review!**

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Was I dreaming? I must be; reality was crueler than this. Reality was an unforgiving enemy that killed dreams, hope, and happiness. If not for the uncertainty of what lay beyond death, I would've killed myself already.

The long grass at my ankles and the trees only at the borders of my vision giving way to the plains I stood on seemed too contrived to be real life. Not only that, but what was I wearing? I didn't wear dresses, so the simple white dress seemed out of place, like something in a movie. The Sound of Music, perhaps? There were hills past the ring of trees. And not a single cloud in the sky. Wind ruffled my hair, which was surprisingly loose, and the hem of my empire-waisted, billowy dress. The sun wasn't too hot. In fact, where was the sun? All around me was blue sky and not a hint of the sun. It could be behind a cloud. The hills weren't tall enough to hide it, and neither were the trees.

"Chihiro!" A familiar voice. A man's voice. Had I met this man somewhere before? No, not a man. A teenager, scarcely older than me.

I turned and the sight took my breath away, spiraling it into the wind. Not a man, but something else. Not human. Otherworldly, for sure, like a spirit in the way he ran, graceful like a dragon. Greenish hair, greenish eyes, white kimono and obi. If he was green and a dragon, why did he remind me of water? Of course he was a dragon. That made sense for some unknown reason. Water. What did he have to do with water?

And suddenly, as he came to a stop a few yards away, a river sprouted between us and vaguely familiar buildings past the trees, just in front of the hills.

A river. His name. Something had happened to his name! What was his name? Ku . . . Ki . . . Ko . . . hako? Kohaku! That I knew his name was somehow of importance, but I didn't know why. Names were important, weren't they? And yet some people had the same name. If a name was a person's identity, then how could two people have the same name?

I opened my mouth to say his name, glad to have remembered it, and stepped forward. My outstretched hand hit an invisible wall. A wall?

Haku mouthed something hastily, his expression growing tense. "I . . . you!" I you? What did that mean?

Running my hands along the wall in front of me, I grew increasingly panicked. The wall stretched until my hand hit a corner. Left. Right. There were walls on either side! Even when I reached up, an invisible ceiling met my palm. Frightened now, I threw myself back, wincing when I hit yet another wall. A box. I was in a box. There was no grass around my ankles. Only hard, clear glass. For it must be glass. What else could it be?

Box. Box. Box. Why did that word strike a bell in me? _Trapped_. Trapped trapped trapped trapped trapped—

Haku now ran forward, but the ground stretched before him, and he came no closer to the river between us. And abruptly, the river and I were miles apart.

Trapped trapped trapped trapped—_Stop it!_ I demanded.

The trees. I sped backward jerkily through the trees, one arm still reaching for Haku.

_Haku_! I screamed. _Remember! Remember me . . . and I'll . . . remember . . . you_!

Nothing.

I sat up screaming. A dream. Of course. Sobbing wildly, I threw myself back into the pillows. He only appeared in dreams. And yet, here I was in a nightgown my parents had bought for me. Stupid thing. When I first got it, I'd debated using a needle and thread to turn the skirt into shorts. But there were no needles here. Not in the basement of our house, where no one could hear me scream and sharp things lacked. Where gray was in abundance because of the misguided advice of a psychologist who thought gray would help me decide whether to be black (insane) or white (sane) whose wife was cheating on him and whose frequent stops to bars made his children avoid him. Where Mother and Father didn't have to suffer the embarrassment of presenting their half insane daughter to dinner guests. Where as much as I tried, dreams would only last so long.

_I never forgot you, Haku_, I thought to the painting of him hanging on the wall. _Not even when I was little. Not now. So why have you forgotten me?_


End file.
